Allies and Enemies
by Attia Ride
Summary: Rebellion. War. Gangs. Fights. These things all happended afterward. Steve never was right in the head after it, too, but Tim knew it most. Being Tim, is was put to his and his gang's advantage. But there's more than that. So much more.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is an actual story based off the song "Holiday" by Green Day, in response to Pretty Vacant 79's challenge. My first fanfiction! Enjoy.**_

_**Prolouge: Armageddon Flame**_

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><p>The bell screeched loudly, interrupting Mrs. Ghram's lecture on the War for Independence. "Remember!" She shouted over the hussle of footsteps and chattering teenagers, including mine. "Read through the next section! Study your notes!" I've always appreciated Mrs. Ghram, even if she was old and hard of hearing. She always tried to teach us best.<p>

I thrushed all my unvaluable books into my locker and slam the door shut. My pace slowed from the walk downstairs as I neared the door, but Two-Bit grabbed my arm anyway. "Hey, Pony!" He shouted cheerfully. "Long time no see!"

I grinned at his cocky smirk. "No time for chit-chat. Big test tomorrow." I told him.

"Ain't that the truth?" He mumbled. "Better brush up on your fightin' skills too. Fight with Tim and co. tomorrow."

I tried to remember what for, but ended up asking Two-Bit.

"Steve slashed his tires last week when he was drunk, 'member?" I nodded, and I did remember.

Steve was really high that day. He had just pulled an April Fool's joke on Two-Bit by stealing all his beers and drinking some of them, which ended up making Steve so drunk that he walked backwards down the street until he came to Tim's house, where he prompty let the air out of his tires oh-so generously.

"Yeah. I remember."

"Good. Tomorrow at seven. See you then. I'm skipin' tomorrow."

I shook my head. Typical Two-Bit.

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><p>It was then that I realized I had no other way of getting home, so I walked. I walked until I reached the edge of the lot, where we'd be fighting Tim and his gang the next day. One of the members was already there, brusing up on his lighting skills. He was rubbing two sticks together furiously.<p>

I shook my head. _Use your switchblade, _I thought. He must've not had one, though. I suddenly felt bad for the guy as rain came pouring down in buckets, almost immediately forming puddles of murky rainwater and mud. The guy gets up furiously and storms off, wraping his thin jacket around him tightly, obviously shivering.

I remembered what Mrs. Ghram was telling us in class about the war. Like the beginning, the Boston Tea Party. I remembered her saying that the men dressed up like Indians and threw the tea crates overboard.

It's kind of like us. I mean, by the next day, there'd be a flame in the lot where we'd fight. Not just the flame to mark the battle field, but a roaring fire of merciless beatings, conjured by none other than Steve and Tim.

Steve has been taking Dally's place recently. Maybe he's trying to keep Dally's mischief up for the fun, maybe it's for Dallas, so that he can see Steve do the stuff he used to. I remember a line from a book I read, "The best thing we can do for the dead, is to do their share of living with a smile." Maybe that's why I was so moved by Johnny's letter. Maybe that's why I try to do the best I can-for him. But I couldn't think any longer. I had to get home.

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated.<strong>_

_**-Attia R.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks so much for the reviews! They mean a lot to me!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own "**_**The Outsiders"**

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><p>The dogs howled to our war cries as we lined up, facing each other. I stood across from Curly, Tim's little brother. Darry was beside me, right across from Tim Shepard himself. "Listen," He said, leaning in my ear, "Don't get too fired up. Holler if you need help. I think we're out-numbered."<p>

I nodded and looked at Tim's gang. There were seven that he brought with him. I didn't need to count our side-there's only five-but I thought Darry could get rid of Tim for us. We'd probably win. We'd have to.

Tim stepped forward. "You know the deal. Whoever wins gets to decide what they want." He smiled, a ridiculous, cunning smile that makes you want to knock the stupid smirk off his face.

_You mean who they want,_ I thought.

I looked towards Darry, still keeping a look on Curly from the corner of my eye. Darry nodded.

They stepped forward, facing each other closer now, but Tim seemed a little distracted. He was looking past Darry's shoulder ocasionally. Both of the gangs were grinning. Ours because we thought Tim was letting his gaurd down, they were happy because of the same thing.

That's when I realized what he was up to. His gaurd was stronger than ever. He was tense. He was ready to go. More than anything, he was ready to win. I looked around. Our gang was still ready. They were probably thinking of what an easy fight it'd be, but it wouldn't. I knew it.

Darry got ready to take a swing at Tim, but I couldn't let that happen. "Darry!" I shouted. "Don't! He'll-" But it was too late. Darry swung at Tim, and Tim pushed his arm back and twisted it around. It made a horrible cracking noise, and Darry suddenly fell to the ground in a stupor, afraid to touch his arm because of the pain. Tim's grin appeared again.

I looked at our gang, who were standing still and weak in disbelief. "What are you doing?" I shouted. "Go! Go!"

I started running to Curly, who was obviously fiercely ready for me. He immediately punched me in the eye, sending a sharp pain through my face, but I kept fighting him. I grabbed his hair and started punching him in the cheek. Not long after the second blow, Curly escaped my grasp and was fumbling desperately to knock me on the ground. We went at it for a while, me shoving him and Curly doing the same to me. Eventually, we were both on the ground, kicking each other and yelling curses.

I was finally able to sit on my knees, and he squated so that he could easily hit me. I didn't let him have it. I jumped up, ready to fight, but Curly swept my legs and I fell to the ground, a seemingly invisible rock hitting my head. He looked down at me, grinning, but I could see the look of sorrow and compassion in those brown eyes. I shook my head. He leaned toward me, slowly and frighteningly. I screamed. He punched me in the face one last time before the sound of running faded away into blackness.

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><p>I don't know how long I was out. Obviously not too long, because when I woke up, Soda was carrying me in his arms on the road back to our house. My heart beated in an un-even tone as my eyes slowly peeled open. He looked down at me and grinned.<p>

I looked around weakly, because my neck and head were killing me. Two-Bit walked ahead of all of us, still drinking. I could see a small scratch on the back of his neck. Steve was beside me and Soda. He's walking proudly and unhurt. Darry was to the other side, clutching his right arm against his chest. He was limping.

I looked up at Soda again. "I can walk," I told him.

Soda laughed at me. "No you can't. Not with sprained ankle."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled.

"Nuh-uh," He fought back.

"Ya-huh!" Soda set me down on the ground and raced towards Two-Bit. I stumbled a little on the ground before getting up and walking oddly and slowly, more of stagger, towards Darry. "What happened?" I asked him.

He sighed. "It turned into one fight. Just you and Curly. Two-Bit and Steve tried to get it all together again, but Tim had already got me. He said that he wanted to see how the youngin's did. Guess we see how that turned out."

"It wasn't a fair fight, Darry! Curly had rings! He even used that same thing that Tim did!" I fumed.

Darry turned and looked at me. "The rules were no weapons. I agree that he shouldn't use rings, but you gotta understand that we lost, fair and square."

Steve looked up from the spot on the ground which he was previously interested in. "No, Curly wasn't supposed to have rings. I saw Tim get on to him. The fact that Tim still allowed his own win is wrong."

"Steve, we lost."

"But not fair and square!"

"Steve,"

"Forget it, man! I'm gone!" Steve turned and stormed off, a red tweak to his face as he griped his teeth and cursed to himself.

Soda and Two-Bit turned around. Soda cried, "Where you goin', man?"

Steve furiously shoved his finger towards Darry. "I'm leavin'! I'm with the Shepards' now!"

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.<strong>_

_**-Attia R.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you guys so much for the reviews! They really help me. I think that the next chapter will be the last one.**_

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><p>I started to follow Steve around after that. I'd go to the DX station after school to hang out with Soda, and watch Steve go home at four. One thing that I always noticed, though, was that he turned left instead of right once he reached the end of Oak Street. That's where Tim's house was.<p>

I invited Steve to church one day. He seemed to get a little happy inside, and he smiled and looked at me, saying, "I'd like that a lot, kid," So he met me at church.

He seemed happy throughout the whole service. He had a little smirk that would come and go on his face often. It started to scare me a little, but I ignored it for the most part. "Do you wanna come over?" I asked after service.

He seemed to get a little sad, the corners on his grin falling a tad lower. "No, that's okay," He told me. "Maybe some other time, though."

I gave him a little smile and nodded, but he didn't see it. He was already gone.

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><p>I simpily followed him from the church, like a pest. I watched as he kept his head held high, as I kept mine low. I saw how he swung his arms parallel to the step of his feet, how I stuffed mine inside my pockets, rubbing my hands over the base of the blade I kept. He seemed cool, confident, tuff. I just seemed like a loser loning it on the streets.<p>

When he entered the building, he had a completely new sense to him.

He kept his head low. He didn't make contact with anyone. The Dingo wasn't a place anyone wanted to be in, but he was on the Shepard's side now. He had to do it, I guessed. Tim and another boy from his gang were sitting at the table. Tim was hunched over, still looking tall and lean from his constant composure. The boy beside him sat relaxingly against the booth, long, dirty-blonde hair spread everywhere.

Tim smiled and gestured for Steve to sit down. "You got it?" He asked.

Steve nodded and pulled a bag out of his pocket. The boy beside Tim immeditely grabbed it and stuffed it in his pockets. I noticed him moving his one hand inside his jacket. He leaned over and whispered something in Tim's ear, a small smirk on his perfect face.

"Sammy-boy here says it's empty," Tim said. "You know what that means, Steve?" He inquired, putting presure on the table.

Steve thought for a minute, then rapidly shook his head.

"You'll find out soon enough. My house at eight," He demanded. "Be there or beware."

I covered my head with an open menu, waiting for Tim and his friend to slip by. Just as they were about to leave, Steve mumbled something.

"What? What'dya say?"

Steve sighed, obviously knowing what was coming. "I said I don't see why," He muttered, louder this time.

Tim sighed and slid back into the seat. Needless to say, his follower grew a spreading smile on his face. "Listen here," Tim said. "We won, fair and square. You know that. The deal was we got whatever we wanted, and we wanted you."

I processed it. So that's why Steve left the gang. I knew he'd never want to. He was Soda's best friend, for goodness sake! I guess Tim told him to do it. Tim can be pretty intimidating.

"We always get what we want. So when you don't bring us what we want-"his companion patted his jacket pocket-"We have to get to it by . . . other means. So show up, or else." He was gone in a flash.

I didn't know what else to do. Well, besides go to Tim's at eight.

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><p>I followed Steve there. He's real easy to follow. He's so caught up in his own worries and troubles that he doesn't realize what's around him. He cut through Tim's yard to the woods. I followed quietly, making careful movements around leaves and sticks. I don't think he ever noticed, though.<p>

There was suddenly a clear opening. It wasn't too big, but it was big enough for the poorly-built shack to be stuffed in. This must be where Tim wanted him to go. Steve swinged open the door and walked inside, head low. I scurried over to a board-blocked window and peeked inside.

Tim cracked his knuckles. Everyone around him turned to face Steve. Steve looked around nervously and stepped a little closer to Tim. Tim said something, and everyone started murmering to each other. I swallowed.

In a flash, Steve was being beat by Tim and others. They kicked him repeatedly. Again and again. Over and over. I didn't bother waiting for them to finish. I ran off toward my house immediately.

I ran quickly down the street. I tried to catch my breath repeatedly, but I was still shocked at what I'd seen. We should've never fought them, I thought. Never. Not if this is what'd it'd come down to! Steve should've stayed with us.

When I got home, I laid out on the couch, breathless. Darry and Soda were alseep. They both had long days.

I heard the sound of people talking in the distance. I think from outside the door. Before I could get up to look, they were gone. I opened the door, to find a little slip of paper stuck to the screen.

_I told you, I'm with the Shepard gang now._

_-Steve_

I looked up, confused, to see a beaten Two-Bit leaning on the railing.

He was still grinning.

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated, as always :)<strong>_

_**-Attia R.**_


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